I Want You to Notice
by MapleFlavouredIce
Summary: The Composer, with his infinite wisdom, enjoys screwing Neku's life up. Drabbles Neku/Joshua
1. Chapter 1

This hideout, gutter really, was either the work of a genius or the product of entropy. Strike the brilliance from the equation – Joshua would never be anything but disorder. Who, who thinks it's a good idea to put their base in a sewer?

"You shouldn't really mumble, Neku." A giggle. Was…Was something ghosting across his neck? Silvery locks brushed at the orange-peel haired boy's cheeks followed by dilating capillaries. He almost didn't hear what was said next, the pounding in his ears too loud (quietly saying ohmyohmy and yesohyesoh-ooh).

"Too many can hear your thoughts." To say that the younger's annoyance only rose would have been lying. Torn he was, between retorting back or biting back.

"If I had known that was your kink…"

-X-X-X-

Anything, anything in the world could be his play toy, and the Composer chooses to ignore the city begging to be toyed with and instead pop into Neku's room (while he's in the shower of course, peep show loving mischief), take the younger's phone and changes the ringtone. Set to continue until the call was picked up. Gone before the boy could step out in just a towel and change into his school uniform.

Excellent.

Now all he had to do was wait maybe thirty or so minutes, when the bearer of iceberg eyes would surely be sitting in his first class – English was it (all the more perfect if so, wait until the teacher gets an earful)?

Twenty minutes in and Joshua was becoming bored with waiting, flipping out his trademark orange cell of all things embarrassing and texting something simple, casual, refined in all ways Composer-ish. Yeeees. Off he was, to be a good little voyeur and sit in on that English class.

When he got there, the ringtone was already singing, crashing notes (all of which he was not fond, but they got the message across) and lewd exclamations in a language foreign to most Japanese high school ears. The teacher understood them though. Petite little thing with the sun burning her face red as she stuttered and rushed Neku out of the room, taking his phone and flipping it open. That was perhaps the most idiotic action of her life, as she read the text.

"N-Neku-kun…" The boy didn't look up, fuming. "Are you being sexually harassed?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Ne-eku, darling~" A syrupy voice. Oh god _no_. "Miss me?" A creamy arm wrapped around the J of the top, wisteria dyes oddly matchy-matchy with the Composer's eyes. Of course, every time he decides to go out, Joshua has to be there, harassing him in Shibuya Crossing. He'd have to put his bomb technician brain on just to diffuse the situation.

An oddly monotone voice leaves Neku, cold and feigned disinterested. "Well, aren't you the happy one." The orange peel haired boy didn't want to think about what was being pressed up against his back.

"Only for you." An infuriating giggle and the younger feels even more uncomfortable as the Composer rubs himself closer.

"Pegged you down as a lot of things, Josh. Never an exhibitionist though." The iceberg eye bearer tried to move to the side, deftly escaping. The one armed grip was unrelenting.

"Never knew you had such a… dirty mind Neku. It's just my .44 magnum pointed at your kidney." Widening eyes, quickening breathe. Goddamnit. "Wanna go get some coffee?"


	3. Chapter 3

Somebody must have had this planned from the start. A week, a goddamn week of slush and rain and snow and- hell, no wonder there were more suicides during the winter. The Proxy could completely relate to all those jumpers. Except, of course, he didn't need any more reason to be around a certain silvette. More like the Composer didn't need more reason to stalk him. And-

Glance behind and he'd swear there was a shimmer and a smile. Shivers up the back and damn, this is going to be like last week, isn't it? He can already feel it, roaming hands and shocking cold on his stomach, pressed against the snow with a tongue at his navel; down down- he really shouldn't be continuing that train of thought. Definitely not in public.

"But we're not in public anymore more…" A look down and goldfish stare back with big knowing eyes. "So by all means-" cold, such cold fingers on his skin, "continue those thoughts."

This must be some sort of torture, really, devised so that it wasn't- _oh_. He should really be trying to stop those hands; shouldn't be anyway near the waistband and when did it get so warm… Backed up against the wall, and whispers in his ear; think of anything else- no, no, this is where your mind should be-

"You look so fuck-able, Neku, darling."

"What the hell, Josh?" A push, shove against that perfect blouse and a scoff. "Where's the tact?" So close to losing it, damn, pull the waistband up and walk out- hands, hands are back on his chest and lips are on his waist.

"So if we pretend I said nothing…" Whatever sanity he had walking through Molco is long gone, whispered away and melted with words. "Would you have let me continue?"


End file.
